RebelsUntitled
by Mirror and Image
Summary: [Complete] When trying to meet a new contact, one of Kanan's old lovers surfaces.
**Untitled**

Mirror and Image

Hera was, for once, out of her flight suit and leather armor, instead in black spacer trousers and boots, sleeveless scoop-neck shirt to fit her lekku through and minor jewelry as she sat at a table in the back of a cantina. Corellia was not a planet known for its backwater dives and shifty bars, and she had to clean up a little to wait for her contact to find her. Kanan was by the bar, elbows on the flat surface and looking out over the crowd. He had cleaned up well, in uniform slacks from one of his old jobs and a clean shirt open to his collarbone. The cantina was filled with clubbers: post-university beings still shifting to life outside of school, business beings relaxing after work, trendy fashionistas living the life; the dance floor was packed with bodies undulating to the overpowering music and the bar was lined with beings and the tables were full. It was the perfect place to meet someone, and Hera took a sip of her drink and waited for the prospective defector to come in. Imperial presence was there but not overpowering, the bucket-heads more interested in other, less conforming, parts of the galaxy. What stormtroopers she did see were without their helmets and shaking their bodies on the floor with everyone else, clearly off duty.

Hera wasn't fond of clubs. Or bars or cantinas or dives. As a Twi'lek places like this were always a little harder for her, but she was more than adequate at keeping her guard up, and now she had Kanan as her partner to watch her back. By contrast places like this were a second home to Kanan, he had spent half of his life drifting from one such establishment to the next and more than knew his way around. He was past that life, now, and only played the part. The drink in his hand hadn't yet been touched; he smiled, chatted, and flirted, but his eyes always returned to the crowds, and then to Hera.

Hera had met the contact on the HoloNet – the pair of them had learned the hard way that such meetings were a calculated risk. Most of the time it was a trap or a dead end, but three times now they had found someone sincere, and Hera could admit (to herself if no one else) that she was enough of an idealist that she couldn't afford to say no. Kanan had tried. Repeatedly. He had yet to walk away, though, and Hera hoped that meant he felt the same way.

The music finally died, for a few blissful seconds Hera could hear more than the vibrating downbeat of a bass, and just as she reached up to rub her ear cones a voice shot out over the sounds of the crowds.

"Kanan Jarrus!"

Hera froze, eyes snapping to her partner to see Kanan do the same, turning absolutely still as he turned in his seat to the new voice.

A human woman, dark earthy skin and fuscia hair and lips, dressed in a trendy and form-fitting dress, marched right over to the speechless Kanan and kissed him hard on the lips, pressing the length of her body against him and pushing him painfully against the edge of the bar. Her hips ground into his and—did her hand just slide under his shirt and into his pants? Hera wanted to look away, but Kanan's wide eyed shock and statue-still body held her gaze. The music kicked in again, and Hera wished it had been put off a little longer, because when the woman finally pulled away, a string of saliva snapping apart, she started talking, and Hera wanted to hear what the human woman said in mute fascination. Kanan was still in shock, staring at her in a painful cross of slow-dawning horror and abject confusion.

The woman smiled, reaching up and patting his cheek coyly, still talking under the sound of the music, and Hera finally broke herself of the spell and turned her gaze back to the crowds. The mission came first, she needed to find her contact and see if he or she really was trying to run from the Empire. Kanan could handle the wanton affairs of his old life; she trusted him to stay focused.

She sipped her drink.

The crowds didn't change, still dancing, the off-duty troopers didn't even blink as the dark skinned human made her intentions to the man at the bar patently obvious, and no new arrivals came in. Hera was expecting someone to come in without the desire to drink or dance or debauch, a body slinking to a corner table or bar, looking for someone. She expected to see someone forlorn, nervous, scared. Instead everyone here was happy, moving to the music, talking over drinks, kissing and touching (Kanan's new friend most notably). She checked her chrono, wondering if maybe her contact wasn't going to show.

Her eyes drifted over to Kanan; he was still dumbfounded even as another song ended, nodding mutely to whatever the human woman was saying. Then he blinked, and jutted his chin over to Hera, his eyes catching hers and trying to say something before the woman with brightly colored hair turned and offered a wide, open smile. "There you are, Zaluna!" she said, loud enough to be heard over the music. She grabbed Kanan's hand and lead him over to Hera's table, and the Twi'lek couldn't imagine a good explanation for this. The human sat down easily, as if she and Hera had been friends forever, and Kanan stiffly sat with her, eyes still wide in disbelief.

"Hey," the woman said, "Long time no see, Zaluna – I practically feel like this is the first time we met, it's been so long."

Hera glanced at Kanan, but he was a lost cause, face bright red. She decided to play along. "I agree," she said simply.

"I know!" the woman said easily. "I ran into Kanan here and I was just thinking to myself, 'Larunda, if you going to keep meeting everyone you ever met in college, at least pick the one girl who knew how to keep your secrets.' And then there you were! Isn't it amazing?"

Hera was still a little lost, but the comment about keeping secrets and the obvious lie that they knew each other started clicking things into place. "Well," she said, voice carefully light, "You never could keep your mouth closed."

The woman, Larunda, laughed. "Of course not! I had to tell someone all about my brilliant escapades – I'm usually terrible about picking who I talk to and it always get me in trouble, but you were my first good choice."

Hera could see it now, the tightness around the eyes. The smile was a little too wide, and the woman kept shifting in her seat, unable to get comfortable. She was a good actress, it seemed, but not quite good enough. Hera glanced at the off-duty troopers and shook her head imperceptibly. Larunda nodded and kept chittering. "Do you remember all the stories I used to tell you about Kanan, here?" she said. "I don't think you two ever met. Zaluna, this is Kanan Jarrus, the galaxy's best choice for a carnal adventure or a sex-capade!"

Kanan made an awkward noise somewhere in his throat. Larunda laughed, loud and unabashed. "The two of us met in that shady erotic shop on the other side of the town back on Kalebo, remember? Went through almost half the inventory in the span of three cycles – you were so worried 'cause I dropped off the map right in time for midterms. Oh, but it was worth it; we couldn't get enough of each other, and the parties we went to! Once, we went to this rave, and we went home with a Wookie and a Nemoidian; he managed to satisfy all of us and then stay awake for us to satisfy _him_! Didn't matter what the fetish was, he was game for everything!"

And, at last, Kanan spoke. "... I need a drink..."

"Oh, that's right, love, I forgot! This man, let me tell you, he can hold his liquor. Bunch of us tried to get him drunk but we never managed it. No hangovers, either. He was bright and cheery the next morning every time, making space waffles and ready for the next round. It was a shame you never met him, you were always so focused on your studies, goodie-good that you were, but now you have met! Hey, I have an idea, let's go somewhere and he can show the two of us a good time. You can show off your abs, love, and we can see if Twi'leks are as raunchy as they say – cause I _know_ you have fantasies, Zaluna, even though you try really hard to hide it."

Hera was still trying to make her way through the wall of words, but now she was starting to catch up, and her less than subtle suggestion that they leave was actually a really clever way to get away from the stormtroopers. Her put on a smile and crossed her legs. "You'd be surprised the fantasies I have," she said in a coy voice. "I'd be curious to see if this guy is everything you've built him up to be."

Kanan lost all color in his face.

Larunda laughed again and agreed heartily. "We'll go to my place," she said. "After all the adventures with this guy I learned I want a mirror on my ceiling."

"Oh, no," Hera said. "My place is better equipped."

"Why Zaluna! I knew you had it in you!"

The three got up, Kanan still a little pale, and Larunda put her hands on him again, one arm snaking around his waist and once more into his uniform pants. Hera obligingly took his other side, looking up at him with what she hoped was a suggestive smile. Kanan looked sick to his stomach and was struggling to hide it. She wondered what he was thinking – after the obvious – and hoped he could keep his head in the game for the mission. They moved through the dance floor, weaving through the troopers much to Larunda's stress. As they reached the door a stormtrooper in full uniform came in, marked as a captain, and started yelling at the errant members of his squad – apparently they _weren't_ off duty. Nobody payed the threesome any mind as they left, Larunda making their destination very obvious as she continued to chitter about her plans for showing Hera just how flexible Kanan was, assuring her she would be impressed with his stamina and creativity and the fortitude of his lust.

They exited to the street, and soon after the captain had his squad exit as well, and by either coincidence or design, they started to follow the trio.

"Zaluna," Larunda said through clenched teeth. "If I keep talking I'm going to say something I shouldn't."

Hera quickly put on a girlish giggle and leaned into Kanan's chest. "Kiss her, 'love'," she said under her breath, "Before she gives us away."

Her lekku, pressed up to his neck, felt him gulp before he put on a rich baritone laugh and artfully staggered to the side, into Larunda before pressed into her pink lips. She responded perfectly, moaning into the action and stopping long enough to press into his body again. Hera played her part as well, nuzzling into his chest and rubbing circles on his bicep. A glance down saw his lack of reaction to the attention, and however good this ploy was she wasn't looking forward to talking to him after this. Still, they continued to coo over him as the squad passed by, two heads turning to watch the display before the highly displeased captain got them back under control. Larunda kept at it for a few more minutes before finally disengaging. Her dark cheeks were flushed, eyes dilated and lips swollen. She smiled, again a little too wide. "That went well, huh?" she asked.

Hera shrugged. "It served its purpose. Come on, let's go somewhere private."

"Kanan here comes with me," Larunda said.

"What?"

"I really did know him at university, and he's about the only reason I haven't lost my mind yet and blabbed everything I know. He really is a good distraction."

Hera glanced up to Kanan and was surprised to see Kanan still very red in the face and looking aside in both embarrassment and shame. She filed that look away for now. They would clearly need to talk later, but now wasn't the time. She couldn't even start to explain that Kanan was with her, not just a lucky find.

So Hera looked up to Kanan, caught his eye enough to acknowledge that he was clearly uncomfortable with this, and whispered, "Well, then, Kanan, I guess you'll have to keep distracting Larunda here until we reach my place."

Kanan grimaced. There was no denying that, but Larunda didn't see it. Then he pasted on a lascivious smile and then leaned in to the brightly colored girl to kiss her again. "Well aren't I the lucky guy," he slurred a touch too loudly like a drunk might before stumbling into Hera. "Two lovely ladies on each arm, and a long night ahead!"

The rest of the walk Kanan stayed in that role, joking between them, keeping Larunda distracted from her nervous energy, and stumbling along like it was a drunken night of pleasure. Larunda had no problem laughing loudly and tittering, acting like a complete bimbo and clearly staying focused on Kanan and his distractions. Hera played along, leaning in, laughing, keeping her hands on Kanan's arms, where Larunda had no problem wandering.

Hera did most of the tugging to keep them on course, playing with her act of being the one leading them back to "her place".

However, at one point, Kanan abruptly took charge, stumbling with each of them on his arms into an alley, and pushing them both up against a wall. He leaned into them, kissing Larunda and pulling Hera in close. "Local police," he whispered between kisses, "searching the alleys."

"Then why are we _in_ an alley?" Larunda hissed. Then moaned, loudly.

"How far?" Hera asked, nuzzling into Kanan's neck.

"One street over, heading our way."

Hera only nodded, shifting out from Kanan's embrace to press herself against his back and wrap her arms his waist rubbing up and down his chest. This way she had access to both her blaster and his as he pressed further into Larunda, hoisting up one of her legs. The human was looking more and more terrified, so Kanan pressed his mouth more firmly to hers. Three minutes later lights shone on them, an Ithorian officer coming down and giving orders in his native language. The three pulled apart, Hera surreptitiously checking her shirt while Kanan held his hands up. "Hey, friend!" he said easily. "There a problem?"

The Ithorian said several sentences, and Kanan nodded, goofy, lecherous grin on his face. "Nope," he said finally, "Haven't seen any burglars or suspicious types here. I have been a little preoccupied, though, if you know what I mean." He wiggled his eyebrows and put his hands on both women's shoulders. Hera pressed her hip into his, hands inches away from both blasters. Larunda took a breath to say something but Hera could just see Kanan dig his nails into her shoulder.

The officer laughed something, and turned back to his patrol unit.

Kanan's face immediately sobered. "Come on," he said in a low voice. "Speed's better over stealth."

"Agreed," Hera said.

Larunda blinked. "Wait, you two _know_ each other?"

But Kanan shoved them both down the alley and out the other side, hand slipping to his hip and wrapping it around his DL-18. Hera did the same and they moved down the street as a brusque pace, down a major avenue and slowly into smaller and smaller streets before they hit an abandoned warehouse where the _Phantom_ sat, ready for takeoff. Kanan leveraged a worker's door open just enough for the three of them to fit in, and then slid it back closed. The warehouse's skylight held just enough light for them to see, and Hera breathed a sigh of relief. She turned to Larunda and offered a smile. "Hello," she said, "My name is Hera Syndulla."

Larunda blinked, and Hera finally noticed she had fuscia eyes, as well. Not a full human? The woman shuddered, shaking, before reaching up and pulling her pink hair off. Wait, what? Humans could do that?

"Wig," Kanan said by way of explanation. "Contacts, too."

Oh.

Larunda, now a brunette with skin to match, looked between the two in confusion. "You really do know each other?" She looked to Kanan. "You..." She shook her head, finding a different word. "Since when did you do something that wasn't fun?"

Kanan shrugged his shoulders, unwilling or unable to explain himself. He looked to Hera. "What's the game, Captain?" he asked deliberately, letting his old lover know who was in charge.

Hera looked at the brunette, before gesturing to a crate and offering her a seat. "Let's talk."

* * *

"I'll secure the area," Kanan said quickly, wanting to put as much distance between him and the ghost of his past as possible. His skin was still crawling with what he'd been forced to do to get them out of that cantina. He'd need to hit the 'fresher as soon as they were on the _Ghost_. He moved around the edge of the warehouse, DL-18 in hand as he checked the other rotten openings of the warehouse: creaky doors, broken walls, open windows. He climbed up a pile of crates and leveraged himself up to the beams above, the height giving him an excellent view of the space. Chopper warbled through the comm, Kanan listening for a moment before replying. "I know your sensors have us covered, Chop," he muttered. "I just want to make extra sure."

He was pretty sure that the next word was a curse in fractal, but he ignored it and watched the two women from above.

 _Force,_ he hadn't been expecting that. What were the odds – in a galaxy of several quintillion people – that Hera's possible turncoat was one of his old lovers? Just what kind of luck did he have? But there was no luck, only the Force, and he _really_ didn't want to think about how much the Force hated him to make this waking nightmare happen. He remembered Larunda, which in retrospect was more than he could say about his long string of other partners. His memory told him that _she_ had been the more hungry of the two of them, but he had been an avid participant in exploring just how far pleasure could go. He had left when she had asked when she would move in with him – he hadn't realized she had grown that attached, had thought she was just in for the fun of it like he was. He'd left the very next day without even a goodbye, self-preservation taking over and dashing off to mercenary work for his hope at finding a way to hide himself.

He looked back on those days with shame now. There was a difference between surviving and being lost, and he had been so _lost;_ desperate for any outlet he could find, desperate for companionship to ease the sadness and loneliness of being the last surviving Jedi, anything to turn from the self-loathing of running while his Master sacrificed herself. He was a Force-cursed mess in those days, and he was too young to see it; thought he was doing what he could to survive, not realizing how far he had fallen.

And then... Hera.

He doubted she would ever truly understand what she had done for him, how she had saved him... what she had _given_ him: purpose. Kanan now had purpose, fighting the Empire in small, controlled bursts that wouldn't risk his being discovered, helping people the way that a Jedi was supposed to, challenging him in a way that the work he had tried never managed to do. For the first time in years, he was happy with himself, happy with the life he had lead, and he owed Hera _everything_ for what she had done. He would follow her to the depths of the galaxy and beyond, he would _die_ for her, for what she had brought him, and that wasn't even accounting the fact that he... well.

He had told her about his past, of course. One accident trying to help her relax had lead to a mistake that had forced the issue, and he had explained as best he could.

Hera accepted him regardless, didn't throw him out the air lock; they even... talked. That made her even more special.

Now he watched her talking to what amounted to the perfect microcosm of his indiscretions. The best thing that had happened to him was now talking to the worst manifestation of himself. The irony did not escape him.

* * *

Hera leaned back and glanced up to where Kanan had placed himself to keep watch. Even from here she could see the tense lines of his shoulders as he looked out a dirty window. She wanted to go up there and talk to him. This abrupt reminder of part of his past was clearly upsetting. And though he had recovered enough to get back on task it was clear that it was still eating at him. Given the years they had worked together, Hera was long convinced he'd given up drinking as a way of dealing with things, but there was no denying that this contact was likely bringing up a lot of dark memories.

Larunda was still talking, though at this point that was no surprise. She had started with their escape and the alley and all of that fear, working her way through it with a barrage of words and ringing out the experience over and over. Tears of terror were trying to leak, but Larunda just wiped at them and kept talking.

"I'm such a _mess_ ," Larunda lamented, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees and rub her face. "All this because I just can't keep my mouth _shut_."

"It's alright to be scared," Hera offered, finally able to get a word in. "The Empire is very good at inspiring fear. But we can get you somewhere safe."

"I'll just screw that up, too," Larunda sighed. "I talk. I don't think about it, I just talk. I'll let someone else know that I'm hiding from the Empire. Whether I get caught here or somewhere later, I'm going to die over this."

"You don't know that," Hera soothed. "Yes, you learned an Empire plot, yes you were telling people, but you understand the price of it now. I doubt you'll ever discuss this or let any hints drop of your past again."

Larunda let out a bitter laugh. "Maybe I should take Kanan with me. The sex would be fantastic and he could distract me whenever I want to open my big fat mouth."

Hera rather doubted Kanan would be interested. He'd left that part of his life behind. And if his reaction to seeing her again was any indication, he'd reject the suggestion before anyone even made it.

"Larunda," Hera said softly, a hand reaching out to hold the human's, "You took responsibility. You learned something bad and made sure others knew. That's something to be proud of. The information you shouted from everywhere saved thousands of lives. You also knew when to ask for help, otherwise we wouldn't even be here. You went into that cantina and made contact without arousing any suspicion. All of that is proof of good decision making – and you played to the very thing you hate right now: you talked. We wouldn't have gotten out of that cantina without your talking about Kanan, nor would we have made it here if you hadn't talked and giggled and made everyone think something else was going to happen. You're not as hapless as you think."

The brunette gave a watery smile, the fuscia still on her lips bright against her dark skin. "You're kind to say that," she said. Larunda laughed for a moment, leaning back and looking up, brown eyes drifting to Kanan. "I wasn't always like this," she said, a wistful tone in her voice. "I mean, I was always a talker, but I used to be a lot more put together. I had _plans_ when I was in university. I was going to _be_ somebody, _do_ things. I got my job and was happy to climb the ladder. Then I saw the reports..."

Hera nodded.

"I've never been so scared in my life. I went into that club and I thought: 'I have no idea what's going to happen, and I'm terrified.' " She shuddered. "I almost ran, right then and there. Then I saw Kanan, and it was like... It was like I was a kid again, excited to see what the next role-play would be, learn what new kinky thing we would buy. The unknown was an adventure again, and I was just so happy to see him." She laughed, looking down at her pink wig. "He was such a player, back in the day. He really would do _anything_ , and I couldn't believe I had caught his eye for so long. For a hot minute I thought..."

Her words ran out again, eyes lost in memory. She didn't need to finish: _I thought I was special._

Hera didn't say anything; couldn't say anything. She had never met "that" Kanan, and it wasn't her place to offer words that were really her partner's to say. Hera had met her fair share of players, of course, but Kanan was the first reformed player she knew, and she had learned the hard way how he felt about his womanizing ways.

"Come on," she said instead. "Let's get you on board and we can take you to my ship."

Kanan hopped off the rafters as soon as he saw Hera and Larunda stand, making an impressive jump down to the roof of the _Phantom_ and then to the floor of the warehouse. "We moving out?" he asked.

"Yes."

He nodded and turned without another word, powering into the shuttle and sitting the the pilot seat. That was normally Hera's job, but it was obvious he was avoiding conversation, and Hera wasn't (yet) going to force the issue. She would if she had to, but she wanted to give him the chance to do it on his own. Larunda seemed to finally be out of words, she sat on the seat and leaned back, still fingering her wig and sighing all the way down.

* * *

It was an hour flight back to the _Ghost_.

Kanan kept his eyes on the console all the way to the ship, and busied himself with redundant diagnostics until the women were out of the shuttle before letting out a breath. He closed his eyes and reached for his center, trying to calm his nerves and stay cool. Once he thought he was ready, he exited and moved to the galley. He heard Hera in the common room, talking quietly and seeing the blue light of the holo-table. More details on Larunda's intel, most likely, so he busied himself at the cooktop, pulling out flavored protein packs and a few vestiges of herbs to make a passable soup. He was stalling, he knew it, but once they were in hyperspace he could pick his moment and talk to... well, either one of them.

He took another centering breath, reaching inside himself for quiet. Hera was gone when he went into the common room, in the cockpit and warming up the engines for liftoff. That would keep her busy for a while, and he sat down at the dejirak table and pushed a bowl over to his former lover.

Larunda smiled. "Still the cook," she said warmly.

He shrugged. "Not much to work with right now; credits are tight. Don't get your hopes up."

She sipped the soup and hummed. There was the faintest rumble about the ship, the sign of liftoff. "You were always multi-talented," she said in a low voice, face briefly a picture of contentment. She leaned back, brown hair falling around her face, the fuscia faded slightly from her lips. "You could do anything you put your mind to and make it look easy. I envied you for that."

Kanan looked away, uncomfortable. "You shouldn't. Makes it easy to get noticed."

"Some people want to be noticed."

"Well... I could never afford the price for it."

Larunda smiled, soft and wistful. "There you go again, that hint of mystery. I see some things haven't changed."

Kanan threw a glance at her, gauging. He pursed his lips and tried to get it over with. "I'm sorry I never said goodbye," he said softly.

The smile faded, but not the wistfulness. "But not sorry that you left," Larunda said.

"It was better that I did."

"Why?"

"... I was getting noticed."

Larunda snorted. "By who? Me?"

It hurt to admit it, but he forced himself to nod, to watch the look of surprise bloom on her face, to feel her emotion shift in the Force. He made himself say the rest: "If you noticed me, then others would, too. I couldn't afford that. I still can't. I never will."

"You... you're on the run, too?" she said, putting the dots together. "You're hiding from the Empire?"

Kanan didn't say anything, let the silence tell her what she needed to know. Larunda slumped back in the seat, soup still in her hands as she processed what she had just learned.

"Wow," she said in an exhale. " _Wow_. I mean, no wonder you were mysterious all the time; and now that I think about it maybe that's why you never liked being around stormtroopers, or that time we were all drunk and role-playing and you left as soon as we decided someone would be the Emperor. But wait, how long have you been on the run then? How long were you on the run before we met? What did you even do? Did you see a report like me?"

"I don't talk about it," Kanan answered honestly.

"Love, you can tell me," Larunda said.

Kanan gave a hard look. "I _don't_ talk about it," he repeated.

Larunda blinked, brown eyes wide, before she tilted her head back and laughed. "I really need to take you with me!" she said. "Stars above! If ever there was someone who could help me in keeping my mouth shut! All these years and I never knew... wow! All that pillow talk and I never knew... Hera!" she said, sitting up when the Twi'lek walked in to the common room. They must be in hyperspace now. "Did you know that Kanan here-"

The former Padawan glared at her, gaze intense and – he would admit only to himself – his presence in the Force very strong. Larunda picked up on the shift almost immediately and stilled, eyes widening as she realized what she was about to do. Her pink lips were parted in an oh, and she shrank back to her seat and looked down at her wig.

Hera smiled. "I see you're already learning," she said gently. "Cabins are back this way; it's an eighteen hour flight to our rendezvous, and it's already pretty late. You can take the bunk next to Kanan's."

 _That_ got his attention. "Why can't she take the bunk next to yours?" He didn't relish the idea of having an old lover so close. At all.

Hera gave a Look, though, and he was forced to capitulate.

"Chopper has first watch," Hera said. "I, for one, am changing out of these clothes and into something more comfortable."

"Sounds like a good idea," Larunda said, standing and stepping out of her shoes. "Too bad I don't have anything to change into."

"Come with me, I might have something in your size."

Kanan took another breath when he was alone, pinching the bridge of his nose and rolling the stress out of his shoulders. Space, he wasn't going to enjoy this. He grabbed the second bowl of soup and followed them down the hall; Hera was already stepping out of her cabin and palming the door closed. Kanan offered the soup silently and she smiled as she took it, jutting her head to the cockpit and offering him to follow. He did and took his spot in the copilot seat. A glance at the console told him everything was up to snuff, to be expected for Hera.

"You didn't make yourself a bowl?"

"Not hungry."

Disapproval burned in her eyes over the lip of her soup, and she crossed one leg over another.

Kanan crossed his arms defensively. "Can you blame me?" he countered to her unspoken statement. "I wasn't exactly expecting the night to go like this."

"Have you talked to her?"

"Yes. No. Sort of." Kanan sucked in a long, slow breath through his nose, closing his eyes and counting before letting it go. "We talked about some of it. Haven't hit all of it yet." He looked down at his hands, saw he was worrying them and stilled. "She knows I'm on the run, too. I don't think she realizes what that meant for... back then. It's hard to talk about."

The disapproval lessened, and compassion grew on Hera's face. "I suppose it would be," she offered.

Kanan started to wring his hands again. "I did a lot of stupid things," he confessed. He licked his lips and tried to press forward. "I'd fallen pretty far by the time I met you, and it's taken a long time to pull myself back up again. I don't like looking at what I was. I don't like to remember how close I was to..."

"To what?"

"... To giving up," he said.

The silence filled the cockpit, then; not comfortable but not awkward either. Kanan had been so convinced that he was happy with his old life, of drifting from one planet to another, sticking around until he got too comfortable and then just moving on. The Jedi were trained to do that, of course; to not make attachments, to be able to leave at a moment's notice, but Kanan wondered sometimes if what he did – while true to the letter of the law – wasn't in the spirit of it. He wondered if Jedi were trained to live as drifters because they always had a home to return to: the Temple. _Return home,_ that was what the signal would mean, and that was what Caleb had done without hesitation: stealing a ship and running back to Coruscant, only to learn it was a trick, and his last shred of hope had been dashed. _Do not return to the Temple. That time has passed, and our future is uncertain... But we must persevere._

Kanan hadn't persevered, he'd run from depravity to depravity, debauched himself to run away from the loneliness and the grief and settled on surviving. The Kanan that Hera had met was an ugly, terrible person, and his skin crawled just thinking about how low he had sunk. Larunda, she represented everything he was, and he didn't like facing it.

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit."

Kanan looked up. Hera had crossed her other leg, hyperspace light giving her flawless skin a luminescent glow. She was glorious.

"What?" he asked dumbly.

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit," she repeated, sipping her soup again. "You went through a trauma. You were grieving. Beings do a lot of crazy things when they're in mourning."

Kanan pinched his lips into a weak smile, appreciating the gesture. "I think there's a difference," he said, "Between running away to join flight school and starting a rebellion to what I did."

Hera shrugged her shoulders. "I never said it had to be constructive, just crazy."

Force, he loved that woman.

"Go get yourself some soup. I have some maintenance to do, then I'm turning in. Larunda said she was exhausted. She's probably in bed already."

A dozen different memories of Larunda in bed filled Kanan's mind and he shuddered in self-revulsion. "I'm going to meditate," he said.

Hera smiled and let him go.

In and out. Centering breaths. There is no emotion, there is peace. In and out, centering breaths. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. In and out, centering breaths; there is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony; there is no death, there is the Force. Peace, not emotion; knowledge, not ignorance; serenity, not passion; harmony, not chaos...

Kanan had never stopped meditating. Even when times were at there worst, it was sometimes the only thing that would keep him sane. Well, that or a bottle of Correllian fire-whiskey. It was nothing flashy, no levitation or mind-tricks or lightsabers. Thousands of religions practiced meditation, and it was one of the few connectors to his old life that he didn't cut away. _How_ he meditated changed quite a bit, but the meditation itself stuck with him in all of its half-formed iterations. Instead of kneeling, Kanan sat or lay down; instead of opening to the Force, he only ever centered himself, cleared his mind, tried to find calm. It had been years since he'd done a full mediation, but some things a body never forgot, and Kanan touched the Force, asking it to help him through this trying time. He was on Hera's ship, in hyperspace, as close to safe as he would ever get. It would be okay.

Peace, not emotion; knowledge, not ignorance; serenity, not passion; harmony, not chaos...

His body relaxed, he sank into his bunk, sensation falling away and becoming aware of something bigger than himself. The Force touched him back, welcoming its child, and there was _peace_ , and _serenity_ , and _harmony_ , and _oh_ , he felt so good now. The stress fell away, the worries and the discomfort and even the self-loathing washed out of him. He let go, he accepted what had happened over the course of the day.

Dimly, pleasure started to fill him, and a far away thought wondered why that would happen, because pleasure was passion and the sutra was serenity, not passion. Pleasure grew and his mind woke more fully to the intrusion of the mediation. The sounds of the ship started to fill his ears, and soft sighs and-

Wait. Soft sighs?

Kanan's eyes snapped open and he felt a warm, wet kiss on his neck. Hands on his abdomen, pressure on his – _Force!_

His body seized immediately to tension, and he snapped into a sitting position, startling the person on top of him as his mind caught up to what was happening. "Larunda?!"

The brunette smiled at him in the overhead light, eyes dilated and one of Hera's nightshirts loose over a shoulder. "Sorry," she said. "Didn't know you were asleep." She glanced down. "I see you still respond well."

Kanan blinked at her, still processing what was happening. Finally, "What are you _doing_?"

Larunda blinked herself, eyes widening as she realized her attentions weren't immediately reciprocated, and she backed up on the bunk, dark legs shifting. "Couldn't sleep," she said. "All I can think about is how close I came to clocking out and what I had to do to even get off planet. My whole life is over, and I have no idea how to start over, and I _liked_ the life that I had, and I don't know how I'm going to get through this. My brain, it's just spinning in circles, you know? The more I think, the more scared I get, and the more scared I get, the more I think. I have to stop thinking, I have to distract myself. You were always really good at that, and then I thought I never did get you to role-play as a Jedi, and when I came in to ask you were breathing so evenly, and it was just too perfect and-"

Kanan was gobsmacked.

"You... you wanted me to pretend to be a _Jedi-_ "

Larunda nodded. "You were always best at role-playing," she said. "You would be _anything_ , and could you imagine it? We already know your 'lightsaber' runs really hot and-"

Kanan surged to his feet. "You would debase the _Jedi_?" He punched his door open, stomping out of his bunk, mind burning with his heritage turned into something carnal. Away. He needed to be _away_. He moved through the common room and the galley, hopping over the safety rail and into the cargo hold. The lights were brighter here, harsher and made reality firmer. Kanan rubbed his hands over his face, digging his fingers into his hair, pulling out his tail and repeating the process. Pleasure Larunda as a Jedi...! She had no idea what she was really asking, he couldn't be mad at her but _stars above_ , what was she thinking? Even without knowing his past who would have a sexual fantasy about _Jedi_? He shuddered at the thought, pacing the circumference of the space, trying to calm himself down.

There is no emotion, there is peace, there is no passion, there is serenity... _space_ he couldn't concentrate.

Digging his hands to his hips he closed his eyes and tried to breath. He couldn't believe this had just happened.

Eventually, Larunda showed up, brown hair cascading over her shoulders and climbing down to the cargo bay.

"Okay," she said in a small voice. "Obviously that didn't go the way I planned."

"... were you even planning?" Kanan asked.

"Well, no."

Kanan shook his head, rubbing his face again. He breathed in deeply through his nose, held the oxygen, and then exhaled slowly, almost a sigh. "I never planned all that much either when I was younger," he confessed, "I don't have the right to talk."

"You're different now," Larunda said, looking down, twisting her hands. "You're so serious now."

"... I was always serious," Kanan said. "I just hid it really, really well." He leaned against a crate, left over from an old delivery, lifted his legs up to sit comfortably. "Larunda..." he said slowly, trying to find the words. "I can't go back to that. When we met, I was doing everything I could to forget what had happened to me, to erase it and pretend it never happened. I've grown since then, I'm not a teenager anymore. I'm better equipped to face my demons, and I'm trying to, a little at a time. You..." He paused, uncomfortable with telling the truth, with hurting her, with admitting any of this. "You bring up a lot of things I've already let go. I don't want to go backwards."

He realized belatedly he was looking at his knees, and he forced himself to look up, to watch her face as she processed what he was saying. He wasn't sure what he was expecting: shock, revulsion, maybe anger; but what he got was a slow, wistful smile.

"I guess it's true," she said. "You never really know what you have until it's gone."

Kanan half snorted. "I was never much to begin with."

"You're wrong," Larunda said, and she closed the space between them and kissed him. Slowly, sensually, but not intimately. She lingered on his lips, a hand moving into his hair and grabbing it, but she pulled back, still smiling. "You taught me something, you know," she said. "When you left. I learned to treasure what I have."

"... I should have said goodbye."

"You should have," Larunda agreed. "But _I_ should have seen what you were doing."

"I was always good at hiding things."

"You were. But now it's time _I_ got good at hiding things." She pulled back, then, and gazed at him fondly. "Believe it or not, you were a good influence."

* * *

Hera leaned back in her pilot's seat the following morning. They would be arriving in another two hours, leaving Larunda with the contact that Fulcrum had set up, sending her on the next league of her journey into hiding. That way, if Hera or Kanan were ever captured, they wouldn't know where she ended up, as another layer of safety. Larunda had been nice enough. Woefully terrified of what she had gotten herself into, trying to keep it together, and (if Hera was honest with herself) an interesting look into Kanan's past. She had known that he was a mess before he'd met her, and if Larunda's comments were any indication, he was even _more_ of a mess than she had thought.

The door behind her slipped open and Hera turned to see Kanan bringing in two cups of caf, like he did every morning. He was still tight around the eyes, and looked like he hadn't slept, but he didn't appear as stressed as he had yesterday when facing his past so obliquely. His shoulders were more relaxed.

"Morning," she greeted, gratefully taking the caf and smelling the glorious mixture. Kanan had perfected the caf over the years. Even specialty caf shops couldn't make a blend that was quite like the former Jedi's and Hera dreaded the mornings he was out on an op and couldn't deliver.

"Hey," he said softly, taking his place in the co-pilot's chair. "Still a few hours out?"

"Yes, but we made good time," Hera replied. "I think Chopper modified something last night. The hyperdrive is going faster and we're actually ahead of schedule. Not by much, but it's always those little things that tally up over time."

"Good to know," he said, just as softly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was still distracted, it seemed.

Hera settled back in her chair with her caf and waited.

They had both finished their caf, Kanan had poked some of his readings and entered a few items on the ship's log. When he sat back and sighed.

"I was only just seventeen," he said quietly.

"Oh?"

"When I met Larunda. Seventeen for maybe a month. She was finishing her graduate degree at university."

Hera whistled. "That's quite the age gap." Larunda would have been hitting her mid twenties. Almost a ten year gap.

"No one knew either," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "My growth spurt had ended and I was as tall as I am now. I kept a fuller beard also, to look older."

"She found you in a sex shop?" Hera asked softly.

"Yes." Kanan leaned forward, elbows to knees, and rubbed his face. "Had a date lined up that night with someone I think."

"You don't remember?"

"I don't remember most of my flings. Had forgotten Larunda till she showed up. They were... meaningless to me. Just a distraction, a bed to warm and hide in. Like another bottle of whisky or bourbon. You don't remember every glass of alcohol you've had, I didn't remember every woman I've bedded."

Hera nodded. "You've told me before that you were looking for escape."

Kanan gave a rough, self-deprecating laugh. "Yeah, that's one way of looking at it."

She raised a brow. "The other?"

"Idiocy." He turned in the copilot's chair and finally looked at her. "I look back at that time and have nothing but regret. Not the running or the hiding. That wasn't going to change after what had happened. But I left behind so much of what I'd grown up with."

"As a-"

"Yeah," he said, cutting her off. Even with Larunda nowhere nearby, he couldn't say what he was. He was that careful. Hera had seen glimpses of it before, but they hadn't been confronted so much with something that Kanan needed to talk about his heritage with someone else on board. The _Ghost_ was supposed to be safe. But for Kanan, as long as there were others on board, not even here was secure.

That made Hera's heart bleed in sympathy. To have to hold so much back even when they were safe.

"I was a drifter. And part of that was just how my heritage worked. But all those beds I warmed... There was no respect or thought. It was no different than drowning in a bottle. I treated those women like shit, Hera. I only slept around with them to fulfill my own needs. For a few hours of escape. Even Larunda. She was a distraction. One I happily used to the fullest. When she started to notice me and I ran off, I eased back on the women and dove head first into the bottle. Just a different form of escape."

Clearly Kanan's self-loathing ran deep, and Hera wasn't sure how much was regret, survivor's guilt, or honest reflection instead of self-debasement. He hid it well, most of the time, but it was moments like this that it all came out, and she knew how much it hurt him to do it, but still he did. Nobody else saw this piece of him, only Hera, and she was gratified that he trusted her that much. "Have you talked?" she asked. "With Larunda?"

"Yeah," he said, leaning back in his chair. "It was... it didn't start very well," he said, cheeks coloring. "She had expectations. That was probably my fault."

"I heard you storm out of your bunk," Hera said. "I can imagine."

Kanan winced and turned away, hiding his embarrassment until he had it under control. Hera let him, sipped her caf, glanced at the readouts, adjusted a minute calculation.

"I told her we couldn't go back," he said finally. "I told her I'd changed. She... she took it pretty well, all things considered."

"How do you mean?" Hera asked.

"I don't know," Kanan said, waving a hand vaguely. "I just assumed she would cry. Or try to change my mind. Or... I don't really know what I was expecting, other than it going bad. But she was really mature about it. She said... she said that she learned from me. That I was a good influence." He shook his head. "I have no idea what she's talking about."

Hera smiled. "A man like you wouldn't," she said, leaning back in her seat and recrossing her legs. "That's what makes you special."

Kanan gave her a quizzical look, but she held the answer to herself. Humility was a trait to treasure, and nobility to savor. That Kanan had both was more than most men in the galaxy by Hera's experience, and even in the depths of depravity, people could see it. Even Larunda, immature herself back when they were together, had seen enough to grow from knowing him. Larunda, in a time of intense stress, her life falling apart around her ears, had the presence of mind to think enough to find a plan that worked for her. She had made it from the bar to the _Phantom_ without ruining her chances. The Larunda of her college days, Hera suspected, would not have been able to do that. Nor would she have taken Kanan's abrupt departure well. Her father Cham had once said that the best kind of learning was painful. Larunda had learned. Kanan had learned. They were both better for the experience. Kanan hadn't grown enough yet where he could see that, if ever, but Hera had, and she like having the upper hand on him.

"I wonder how many of them I hurt," Kanan sighed, leaning back in his chair, eyes lost in memory. "I didn't think about them, I didn't even see them – not as people – I degraded them."

"Easy, 'love'," Hera said, borrowing Larunda's nickname for him. "I don't think you give yourself enough credit. There are enough men in the galaxy who will pick up women with no scruples whatsoever without putting your name on that list."

"But..."

"No, 'love.' I've known you long enough to know that you wouldn't just grab any woman off the street. You're a considerate enough person to only pick someone who was interested in a one-time fling. Women like having them, too, you know." Hera smiled. "You were probably as small a blip on their scanners as they were on yours. Sorry to burst your bubble."

Kanan snorted, but his face had loosened a little.

* * *

Two hours later Larunda came out, still in her trendy dress, but the pink contacts and lipstick were long gone, and the wig was nowhere to be seen. She looked more like a business woman than a clubber, and she took one of the seats quietly. "Morning," she said.

"We're almost at the drop off," Hera said. "We're exiting hyperspace in a few minutes."

The human woman smiled, dark face warm and better than it ever was last night. Hera could see, a little, what Kanan saw in her. "You've both been very kind," she said. "I can't thank you enough."

"Thank us by living well," Hera said, turning back to the console. Her attention was focused on readouts and commands then, prepping and then exiting hyperspace, the streaking lights shrinking to their normal pinpoints of stars. She engaged reverse thrusters to slow her speed even further, angling the _Ghost_ to the freighter that was with them in deep space. "Chopper," she said, glancing back to the droid, "Is that our pick up?"

The astromech warbled an affirmative. Hera sent confirmation codes and there was a brief flurry of messages back and forth before docking was complete.

"We're all set," she said.

All three stood, and exited the cockpit and moved passed the cabins to the ladder that lead up to the turret, Kanan reaching out and opened the aft airlock. Larunda started to step down before slowing to a stop. Hera and Kanan waited at the door. She had to make this journey herself, now. Larunda turned, brown eyes wide, a little scared. She fought to smile. "Thank you," she said. "I won't waste this." Her eyes flicked to Kanan. "I'll treasure it always."

Hera was about to say something, but Kanan beat her to it. "Goodbye," he said, and there was a weight to the word that Hera didn't understand.

Larunda did, though, and her smile was more genuine. More watery. "Goodbye," she said.

She never looked back as she moved down the ramp and left the _Ghost_.

 **End**

 **Author's Notes** : Again, we poke at the idea of players. Last week, in the author's notes of _Pressure Points_ , we mentioned that we'd deal with the repercussions of Kanan's womanizing in another fic. Well, here it is. :) The main thing we see for Kanan, after knowing what little of his past that's been put out there, is that he probably has a chunky amount of self-loathing. Like Hera reflected, there's a lot of survivor's guilt and then his self-destructive behavior to add on to all that, there _must_ be a fair bit of guilt and shame. Kanan has even hinted at it in the show. So we delighted in examining a bit of that.

Also, le gasp! A mature, adult look at meeting an old lover that doesn't involve high drama, but proper discussions and closures? Who would have ever thought that was possible!

Don't get us wrong, the two of us love to be drama-queens, see any number of our other fics, but both of us despise romantic drama as overdone, overused, and overexposed. Another author (even for something official) would require a push-pull of "Does Kanan still feel for Larunda?" or "Is Hera jealous of the old flame?" or "Larunda must try to win Kanan back!" which is just disgusting for the two of us. So we looked at them as proper adults. Larunda is a fair bit older than Kanan, though we never really touch on it, so by now, she's in her thirties. She has the distance from childhood and the experience of adulthood to look at this more maturely rather than to try and reach for a childish fling and cling to it. She also isn't just a bimbo. She may be a complete chatterbox and always will be, but we hope that it's clearly come across that there's more to her than that. That she's driven and caring, and at the moment oh-so-terrified.

We also had a fair bit of fun at inverting the whole kiss-as-distraction-leads-to-sexual-desire trope that's so often seen. If you're terrified of something, well and truly scared, you can't get turned on. It doesn't work like that. So Larunda's falling in to the distraction, but there's still a good chunk of her mind that's worrying and scared. And Kanan is in a position he never wanted to be in and isn't finding any of this fun in the slightest. So he's not getting interested either. We love deflating tropes like this. :)

Not really sure what else to say. For such a small fic, most of it speaks for itself.

Side note: new posts are on hold for a bit as we sort ourselves out. See you (hopefully) in the summer!


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